Envy And Jealousy
by wwechick
Summary: What Dean Ambrose had planned for Valentine's Day evening was ruined by a tragic event. Dean Ambrose/O.C./Undertaker/Kane (I used Taker and Kane's real names)
1. Chapter 1

**Envy and Jealousy**

 **Chaper 1:**

Cincinnati, Ohio. That is where Dean Matthew Ambrose called home all his life. It was also home to the love of his life Stacy Marie Hopkins. They met late last October at diner she waitressed at. They were very much in love with each other. Today was February 14; the day more popularily known as Valentines Day. Today was far different Valentines Day than Dean has ever experienced. Tonight was a very special night for Dean. Tonight, he was going to propose to Stacy. This was the most anxious night of his life. He was a nervous Nelly. He knew deep down that this night would change his life forever.

Dean stood in the bathroom of his one bedroom apartment, wrapped in a towel from the waist down. He had just finished brushing his teeth spitting mouth wash into the sink. He looked at himself in the mirror wondering if he should shave his light stubble. Stacy did say she liked it and she didn't hesitate to add that it made him look very, very sexy. He chose to keep the facial hair. Dean walked into his closet of his bedroom and picked out a pair of black dress slacks, white button-down shirt, black dress coat, _sans_ tie.

Dean ran some hair gel through his hair slicking it back. He smoothed the jacket over his muscular frame before grabbing his wallet and keys as he walked out the door. He hopped into his brick red grand prix putting his keys into the ignition. The engine started right up. He looked at himself in the rear view mirror, his ocean blue eyes staring back at him. He gently tapped the coat near his inner pocket. Yep. He remembered the ring. He took a deep breath as he pulled out onto the street. He stopped by the flower shop to purchase a dozen pink roses. He chose pink cause he knew it was Stacy's favorite color. He pulled the car in front of Stacy's apartment duplex moments later. He got out of the car and began walking up to the door. He met an elderly couple walking his direction on the sidewalk.

"What beautiful flowers you have there." the woman complimented.

"For someone very special I assume." the man said.

"My girlfriend," Dean stated proudly. He patted his jacket where the ring rested. "And hopefully before the end of the night...my fiance."

"Wonderful." complimented the gentleman.

"Congratulations, dear."

"Thank you, sir. Ma'am."

The couple were on their way down the sidewalk as Dean ascended the steps. He walked through the door and strolled to the elevators. He took the elevator to the 2nd floor which led to Stacy's apartment. He was in a very good mood this evening. He softly sang to himself as he walked along. He sang the chorus to a popular 80's rock ballad by the group KISS.

" _Forever. This time I know that there's no doubt in my mind. Forever. Until my life is through, girl, I'll be loving you forever._ " These words described how he felt about Stacy.

He reached her apartment 207. He looked at his watch. The time on the face read 6:25. He said he would be here by 6:30. Nothing like being 5 minutes early. He took a deep breath before knocking. But when he knocked the door was pushed inward.

"Hmm."

Dean stepped inside the apartment. Silence greeted him as he entered.

"Stacy?" He called. "It's me. Dean Ambrose. Um...your door was not latched shut."

He walked around the apartment. Still surrounded by silence.

"Stacy? Are you here? Is everything...alright?"

Silence. Not a sound. Not even a peep from Stacy. He saw her bedroom door was fully opened. Stacy was nowhere to be seen. He tried again.

"Stacy?"

He stepped into the room. Dresses were carefully laid out on the bed. No doubt she was wondering what to wear. But where in the world was Stacy?

"Stacy? Where are you, honey?"

That's when he noticed the bathroom light was on and the door was opened only a crack. He walked over to where the bathroom was connected to the bedroom. He lightly pushed the door open. A loud gasp exited Dean's mouth and the beautiful bouquet of flowers dropped to the floor. He panted as he walked into the bathroom. He walked over to the tub and gasped even louder when he had found Stacy in a white bath robe...submerged under a tub-full of water.

"STACY!"

He quickly pulled her out of the water. He gently lowered her to the carpeted floor. He lowered his head to where his ear was next to her mouth, hoping, praying for a smidgen of a breath. Nothing. He checked her neck. No pulse. But there was discoloring around her neck and her left cheek. Bruising.

"No..." he whispered. "NO!" He clasped her face in his hands. "STACY!"

Dean pulled out his phone dialing 911 and putting it on speaker. He sat the phone on the floor then began to perform CPR. A male's voice answered on the second ring.

 _"911. What's your emergency?"_

"My name is Dean Ambrose," he answered hurridly as he pumped Stacy's chest. "I'm at the apartment duplex downtown." He breathed into her mouth. "I'm at my girlfriends' apartment! Room 207!"

 _"What happened, sir?"_

"She drowned in her bath tub! She has bruising on her face and neck! I think she's been murdered! Send the police!"

Before he bent down to repeat a breath into Stacy, his eyes caught the mirror above him. He stopped what he was doing and looked upward. He rose to his feet glancing at the mirror. A red lipstick message stared back at him in bold lettering. The words written out stabbed at his heart like a knife.

 **IF I CAN'T HAVE YOU, NOBODY CAN**

 _"Sir?"_ the man on the phone called out. _"Sir!"_

It was too much to take in. Dean felt himself grow weaker. His knees quaked violently before they gave out on him. He collided to the floor, then his whole world went black. He knew this night would change his life forever, but not the way he wanted...and surely not the way he expected.


	2. Chapter 2

**I apologize for this chapter being so short. The next chapter is kinda short too. But the chapters will be a little longer coming up. As was described in the description of this story, I am using Undertaker and Kane's real names in this chapter and for the rest of the chapters to come. Thank you all for reading. Enjoy.**

 **Chapter 2:**

Yellow caution tape surrounded the apartment. Police cars and an ambulance circled the area. Detective Glen Jacobs was on the scene waiting for his partner to arrive. He knew his partner would not be happy coming here tonight, especially on Valentine's Day. Detective Jacobs was having a conversation with a young male cop when a black Ford truck pulled up to the sidewalk. When a black Ford truck showed up at any crime scene in Cincinnati, you knew who he was. The truck was put in park, then the occupant of the vehicle stepped out onto the pavement.

His cowboy boots clumped on the sidewalk. He was donning a black suit and tie, white button-down shirt, and a black cowboy hat. Even though he lived here in Cincinnati, he was 100% Texan born and raised. He approached his partner looking none too pleased. Detective Jacobs excused the young officer, then turned to face his partner extending his hand.

"Detective Mark Calaway. You look rather dapper this evening. Clean shaven too."

"You look dapper too," Detective Calaway said noticing his friends dress attire of black suit, red shirt, no tie. "What Valentine's Day get-together was interrupted for you when this happened, Glen?"

"Candlelight dinner with the missus at home. Filet mignon, grilled asparagus, side salad. Red wine. Didn't even get to the dessert of strawberry swirl cheesecake."

"The kids?"

"At a friends house for a sleepover. Pizza. Movies. You?"

"Took Michelle and Kaia out for supper. Michelle's favorite Italian restaurant."

"Dessert?"

"That would have been later on at home."

"Hmm. What kind of dessert?"

Detective Calaway gave his partner an 'Are you serious' look.

"Ohhhhh..." Detective Jacobs replied understanding the way he used the word 'dessert'.

"Yeah. 'Ohhhhhh'. The plan was we were going to wait until Kaia was asleep."

"Rhetorical question. You do have protection, right?"

Detective Calaway's eyes slightly bulged and his mouth dropped open, answering as a teenager would answer their parents if they were annoyed.

"Uh, yeah." His face scrunched up gritting his teeth. He turned his head downward. "No..."

"No?"

Detective Calaway stepped closer to where only Detective Jacobs could hear.

"I was going to buy some after we left the restaurant, before we went home tonight. Now obviously, we both know how this night wound up for both of us."

"Comes with the job."

"True."

"But, lucky for you and I, we both have wives whom understand and support us even during situations like this."

"Yeah. Thank God."

"Thank God indeed."

"Well...what do you say we get inside and see what's brought us here."

"Yes. Let's."


	3. Chapter 3

**This chapter is a short one too like I described before the previous chapter. But I promise the chapters will be a little more longer.**

 **Chapter 3:**

Detective Calaway and Detective Jacobs walked into the apartment 207. Cops everywhere. Detective Calaway walked up to a female officer asking where the body was. She pointed in the direction of the bathroom. The detectives walked in to see someone taking pictures of the female lying on the floor. The detectives walked over to the mirror reading the message written upon it.

" **IF I CAN'T HAVE YOU..."** Detective Jacobs began.

 **"NOBODY CAN"** Detective Calaway concluded.

They turned their attention to the lifeless body on the floor. They crouched down near the victim as a red headed male medical examiner named Trevor.

"What do we have here, Trevor?" Detective Jacobs wondered outloud.

"A young female, mid to late 20's. Brown hair, gray eyes."

"Name?" Detective Calaway asked.

"Stacy Marie Hopkins."

Detective Calaway placed latex gloves on his hands before examing Stacy's face carefully moving the head back and forth.

"Bruise on her left cheek, bruising on her neck. Her body is soaked."

"The tub is still full of water." Detective Jacobs noticed.

Detective Calaway turned his eyes towards the tub, then back to his partner shaking his head. "Mid to late 20's you said?"

"Yes. According to her driver's license, she was born April 16, 1987."

"Aries." Detective Jacobs commented.

"She was drowned." Detective Calaway stated. "Such a shame. So young."

"Who called 911?" Detective Jacobs asked Trevor.

"A young man whom the officers found here on the floor next to her, passed out on the floor. Someone said they woke him with a smelling salt."

"Where is he?"

"Last I saw him, he was sitting out the balcony when I got here."

"You got it?" Detective Jacobs asked his partner.

"Yeah. Thanks, Trevor. Good work."

Detective Calaway rose to his feet removing the gloves and stuffed them in his pocket. He walked through a sea of cops and found the balcony doors. Detective Calaway looked through the glass seeing him sitting on a lounge chair. He softly opened the doors leading out to the balcony. He stood in front of Dean whom was cradling his head in his hands.

"Excuse me."

Dean quickly looked up as a quiet gasp left his lips, his eyes full of shock and tears.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. You were the one who called 911?"

Dean turned his head back down nodding.

Detective Calaway bent down in front of the young distraught man. "Look at me, boy." Dean did as requested. "What's your name?"

"Dean. Dean Matthew Ambrose."

"My name is Detective Mark Calaway. Why are you sitting out here?"

"I couldn't stay in there much longer."

"The cops said that they found you passed out on the bathroom floor." Dean nodded again. "Did you know her?"

"Y-yes. She was...she was my girlfriend."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Later on at the Cincinnati police department, Dean was in the interrogation room waiting to be asked questiong about Stacy. He was standing near a window arms crossed over his chest, looking out onto the world. A sound of a door opening made him turn around. Detective Calaway walked into the room, 2 sacks of food and a couple of sodas in his hands. He pushed the door closed with his foot.

"Thought you might be hungry," Detective Calaway explained sitting the food and beverages on the table. Dean looked at the food then back up at the detective.

"I thought I came here to be questioned," he said irritated. "Not to be fed."

"You are here to be questioned. But I thought you would want to eat first."

Dean ran a hand down his face, sighing heavily. His red puffy eyes met Detective Calaway once more.

"I'm sorry, detective. I apologize for being short with you. It was uncalled for."

Detective Calaway shook his head. "No need to apologize, Dean. Tonight has come as quite a shock for you. Now, why don't you take off your coat, and sit a while, huh? Come on."

Dean walked over to the table as he removed his jacket. He placed the coat on the back of his chair before taking his seat. Detective Calaway removed the hamburgers and fries from the sacks and passed one of each over to Dean before sitting down across the table from him.

"How much do I owe you for the meal?" Dean asked as he opened a can of pop.

"Not a thing, Dean." Detective Calaway answered matter-of-factly.

"Come on."

"Nope."

Dean removed the wrapper from his hamburger. "Well...thank you."

"It was my pleasure."

Detective Calaway brought his burger to his mouth ready to take a bite. Before that, he pulled the burger back, lifted the top bun, and groaned inwardly. Dean cocked his head slightly to the left in confusion mid-chew of his own burger.

"Pickles. I hate pickles. I never was a pickle fan, nor a cucumber fan."

"Hmm. Really?"

"Not really." Detective Calaway removed the pickles from his burger before placing on the wrapper, crumbling it into a ball, and tossing it in the trash backwards. He smirked after he heard it land inside the trash can.

"Whoa. Nice shot."

"I used to play basketball at a younger age."

"I believe it." Dean commented putting a few fries in his mouth.

Detective Calaway took a bite out of his burger, then closed his eyes at the taste of Heaven on a bun. "Mmm mmm mmm. I tell ya, Dean. When it comes to burgers, it doesn't get any better than Red Robin."

"Yum."

Their eyes met. " _Red Robin._ " Detective Calaway sang.

" _Yum."_ Dean sang concluding the familiar jingle.

Detective Calaway and Dean sat eating their food and drinking their sodas. Their conversations were light purposefully straying away from that nights events. They talked about sports, hobbies, anything but the dreadful murder of Stacy Marie Hopkins. Detective Calaway did his best to keep the conversations light. He tried to keep Dean as comfortable as possible. For now, it seemed to be working. After their meal was devoured, Detective Calaway tossed the garbage into the trash.

"So what made you want to be a cop?"

"I always played cops and robbers as a kid. We made our own badges, had our own make-believe jail cell. Monkey bars." That got a smile out of Dean. "As I grew up, cops became an obsession. Not the cop part, but wanting to help people. Wanting to make a difference in the world."

"How long have you been a cop?"

"Since I was in my late 20's. I was a Texas Ranger at one point."

"You're normally from Texas?"

"Yep. Born and raised. I got a job offer to come here. Moved my family up here last year. Now, here I am; part of the Cincinnati PD."

"Interesting."

Detective Calaway smirked. A light knocked interrupted the conversation. The detective walked to the door and opened it inward. His partner Detective Glen Jacobs whispered something into his partners ears. He nodded before walking back towards the table.

"Dean, this is Detective Glen Jacobs. He's my partner."

"Hello, detective."

"Hello, Dean. Sorry about your loss."

"Thank you."

"Dean, your brother is here." Detective Calaway stated.

Before coming into the interrogation room, they allowed him one phone call. He dialed up the only family member he had left; his brother. Detective Jacobs motioned out the door for the brother to step into the room. When he came into the doorway, Dean rose to his feet rapidly, accidently knocking the chair to the floor. Jon Moxley Ambrose, Dean's twin brother, stepped into the room, worry visible on his face. He went and stood in front of Dean.

"Dean..." Jon began to say. "What happened?"

"She's gone, Jon." Dean said grasping his brother's shoulders.

"What? Who?"

"STACY! She's...she's...she's DEAD!"

"WHAT?!"

"She's been...she's been..."

Dean couldn't even finish his statement. He broke down sobbing loudly. Jon held his brother close in his arms letting him cry. Jon couldn't say anything. He was silent, tears falling from his own eyes. The two detectives eyed each other nodding simultaneously. They knew what they had to do. They had to catch the one responsible for the heinous act. They had to catch the killer. And they would not stop until they did.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Dean and Jon Ambrose sat across the table from the two detectives interrogation room. By then, Dean's crying had subsided.

"So, you went over to her apartment." Detective Jacobs said reviewing Dean's statement. "You found the door was not closed all the way. You walked in saying her name. What next?"

"I walked around her apartment looking for her. Checked her bedroom, her bed had dresses laying on top of it. The bathroom connected to her bedroom, the light was shining under the crack of the bathroom door. I knocked softly hoping not to scare her. I opened the door..." *Hiccup* *Hiccup* *Hiccup*

"Excuse me. This always happens" *hiccup* "when I get" *hiccup* "nervous."

Dean continued hiccuping as Detective Calaway rose to his feet to walk to a small table in the corner of the room. He grabbed the water pitcher and poured some water into the glass. He walked back to the table and passed the glass to Dean. He took it in shaking hands. He brought the glass to his lips gulping down the liquid as Detective Calaway sat back down in his seat. Dean then sat the empty glass on the table waiting a few seconds to see if the hiccups had ceased.

"Better?" Detective Calaway asked.

"Yes. Thank you."

"Sure."

"Now." Detective Jacobs cleared his throat. "You said you opened the bathroom door. What did you see?"

Dean shuddered. "I saw...a left leg hanging over the side of the tub. I dropped the flowers I was carrying. I walked over to the tub, pulled her out of the water, I placed her gently on the floor. I said her name again and again. Nothing. I dialed 911, then began to perform CPR. I had the phone on speaker so I could work with both hands to perform CPR. I looked up at the mirror and noticed the message written on the glass in red. And that's when I blacked out."

"What were your plans tonight with the sus.." Detective Calaway cleared his throat before correcting himself. "Forgive me, Dean. Let me try that again. What were your plans tonight with Stacy?"

"I was going to take her out to dinner at that new Italian restaurant that opened last month. She said she hadn't been there yet, so I was going to surprise her with that. Then I was going to take her for a walk in the park. Am I doing okay?"

"You're doing just fine, Dean." Detective Jacobs reassured. "Take your time."

Dean clasped his hands together in front of him. He brought his balled-up hands to his forehead sighing heavily through his nose. Jon, sitting on Dean's left, wrapped a protective brotherly shoulder around Dean.

"It's okay, Dean. You're doing good. We're here to help you anyway we can."

"Your brother's right, Dean." Detective Calaway commented.

Dean sniffed before continuing his story.

"Like I said, after supper, her and I were gonna take a stroll through the park. It's our special place."

"What made it special?" Detective Jacobs queried.

"It was where Stacy and myself shared our first kiss."

Detective Calaway addressed Jon. "Did Dean tell you he was going to propose to Stacy?"

"He told me a couple of weeks ago. As for how I felt, I was happy for him. I thought they were a perfect couple. They made a great pair."

"I have one last question." Detective Jacobs said. "And it's for the both of you. Can you think of anybody that might have had a grudge against Stacy?"

"No." Jon and Dean answered at the same time.

"She was friendly to everybody she came in contact with." Dean added. "She loved animals. She loved kids."

"She was always nice to me," Jon stated. I considered her as my little sister. I was hoping that when Dean proposed that she would have said 'yes.' I considered her as family."

"Well, I'm sorry that didn't happen, Dean." Detective Calaway said. "She must have meant a lot to you."

"She did."

"Well, Detective Calaway and myself have no more questions at this time. You both are free to go."

"Dean, you can stay at my place if you want."

"Are you sure, Jon?"

"Of course you can. _Mi casa es su casa._ My home is your home. I'll give the detectives my number to where they can reach me and my home address and my work number and address. You mentioned your car is at Stacy's place, so we can go pick up your car, drive you to your apartment, you can get some stuff and come over to my place."

"For how long? I don't want to become a burden to you."

"Burden? Nonsense, brother. You can stay as long as you want to. Now come on. You've had a rough night. Let's get you home."

Dean grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and put it back on. Jon led Dean out of the interrogation room after saying their farewells to the two detectives. The detectives rose out of their chairs.

"Well..." Detective Jacobs said.

"Well what?" Detective Calaway answered, his hands resting on his hips.

"What do you think?"

"I think we have to catch this guy."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Dean and Jon walked into the apartment building where Dean resided. When they approached the elevator, Dean pressed the 'up' button. The elevator dinged as the doors swung opened. They stepped onto the elevator and rode it to the second floor in silence. The elevator repeated the ding signaling they were on the second floor. They stepped off the elevator and turned right walking to apartment 213.

Dean reached into his pants pocket for his keys to his living quarters. He found the key to put into the keyhole. However, his hand began to shake and the keys slipped out of his hand landing down on the brown and red carpeted floor. Dean sighed frustrated, muttering a familiar four letter 'D' word. Jon touched Dean's left shoulder in a show of brotherly care.

"It's okay, Dean."

"Is it really okay, brother?" Dean asked angrily, meeting his brother's gaze. Jon slowly pulled his hand away from his brother's shoulder. Dean sighed softly rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. He exhaled a slow breath before meeting Jon's caring concerned eyes.

"You're the second person I snapped at tonight. I'm sorry."

"No reason to be sorry, Dean."

"Yeah there is, Jon. My girlfriend is dead. I'm upset. It doesn't give me the right to take my frustrations out on you."

"Dean...you've had a hard night. This night has been very unforgiving for you. They will catch the person responsible for taking Stacy's life. Trust me."

"I'm just not thinking clearly, that's all."

"Hey. If I were you, I wouldn't be thinking clearly either."

"How do you going to put up with me?"

"I've put up with you for almost 30 years now. It's nothing new."

Jon bent down to retrieve the keys from the floor, found the key and unlocked the door. They both stepped inside, then Jon closed the door behind him. He looked around his apartment. He was surrounded by pictures of their youth. A desk with bills in a tidy pile upon it. To the left was a kitchen. No dining room table. TV, couch, chair, just the bare necessities. He followed Dean into his bedroom. Nothing much either. Bedside table with a lamp and alarm clock, bed, closet, bathroom connected to the room, book shelf, chest of drawers. Simple. Very simple, which is how Dean liked it. Dean walked toward his closet and reached for a duffle bag on the floor.

"Would you like some help?"

"Actually, I would like a little help. Would you please get my toiletry bag in the bathroom and put a few things in there I might need?"

"Yeah. Where is it?"

"Top shelf in the towel closet."

Jon walked into the bathroom retrieving the toiletry bag from inside the closet.

"Don't forget my tooth brush." Dean called out from the bedroom.

"Hey, Michelle. It's me."

"Hey, honey."

"Listen. I'm sorry I had to bail like that on you and Kaia."

"It's okay, Mark. What happened?"

Detective Calaway looked around his desk to see if anybody was listening in on the conversation before turning back to talk to his wife on the phone.

"A woman was murdered tonight."

"Good Heavens."

"Yeah. I really am sorry on how this night turned out."

"Honey, I understand. It's part of your job."

"How did I ever get lucky to have a woman like you? You know I love you, right?"

"Of course. I love you too."

"Is Kaia there?"

"Yeah. Hold on a second."

There was some noise in the background before a small voice came on the line.

"Daddy?"

"Hey, sweetheart."

"Are you at work?"

"Afraid so. I know I promised to read you a bedtime story, but I'm stuck here at work tonight."

"Really?"

He hated hearing the disappointment in his little girl's voice. It tore at his heart strings. "I'm afraid so, darling."

Just then, Detective Calaway felt a tap on his right shoulder. He turned to see his partner behind him. He reached forward and took the phone out of Detective Calaway's hand then placed it to his ear.

"Kaia?"

"Yes."

"Hey, this is Detective Glen Jacobs. Remember? Your dad's friend?"

"Oh yeah. I remember you."

"Here's an idea. How about I send your dad home so he can read you that bedtime story, huh?"

"Really?" Kaia asked happily.

"Really?" Detective Calaway mouthed to his friend.

"Really. He'll be home soon."

Detective Calaway heard the excitement in his voice on the other end of the line and it brought a smile to his face. Detective Jacobs said bye to Kaia, then hung up the phone.

"Uh...how much did you hear of that?"

"From 'I know I promised to read you a bedtime story, but I'm stuck here at work tonight'."

"Oh."

"Well, why are you still sitting here, Dad? You have a promise to a little girl to keep. Now, get your butt out of here this instant."

Detective Calaway grabbed his jacket off the back of his desk chair placing it over his muscular frame.

"Glen, if anything happens."

"You'll here about it tomorrow, Mark. I've got it covered."

Detective Calaway grabbed his cowboy hat off his desk top and adjusted it atop his head. "Thank you, Glen. I owe you one."

"Buy me a beer after the case is over and call it even."

"Deal."

Detective Calaway turned to walk away only to hear a jingling sound behind him.

"Forget something?"

Detective Calaway turned back to see his partner holding a ring of keys between his right thumb and forefinger. He patted at his pockets before quickly huffing through his nose.

"Right." Detective Calaway said as Detective Jacobs tossed him the keys.

"Now get out of here."

"I'm gone." Detective Calaway said turning his back to his partner. Detective Jacobs shooks his head chuckling softly to himself.

"Oh, Mark, Mark, Mark. You have that little girl wrapped around your finger, don't you?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Dean was awakened to a light knocking at his bedroom door. He looked at the clock on the bedside table. 8:07 a.m. He moaned rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Yeah?"

Jon opened the door slowly carrying a breakfast tray on his right arm. " Morning, brother."

"Hey, brother. What's this?"

"Breakfast in bed. Come on. Sit up."

Dean sat up in his guest bed adjusting the pillows behind his back. Jon sat the tray on Dean's lap.

"You have sausage links, scrambled eggs and wheat toast. Orange juice and coffee. _Sans_ cream, _sans_ sugar. Just how you like it."

"Oh. Wow."

"Unless your taste in coffee has changed."

Dean chuckled rubbing a right palm in his right eye. "You spoil me."

"Eh." Jon shrugged.

"Well, where's your breakfast?"

"I'll graba bagel on the way to work at the YMCA. Oh, and I called your boss and said you had a family emergency and would not be in for a few days to work. He told me to tell you to take all the time you need. He also said that if you ever need anything..."

"I appreciate that."

"How did you sleep?"

"Not very well as a matter of fact."

"Hmm. Figured."

"Are you sure it's okay that I stay here for a while? I could always go back home."

"Nope. Out of the question. When I said you could stay here as long as you need to, I meant it. Plus, I would not have felt right knowing you were alone. I mean...I myself probably would have lost a few winks of sleep."

Dean chuckled. "Jon, I can't thank you enoughfor what you're doing to help me. I appreciate it. Truly."

Jon sat down next to Dean on the bed. "Hey. We're family. That's what family is for. This is what brothers are for." Jon slapped Dean on the back. "I know you loved her. I loved her too. Like I said last night, she was like a kid sister to me."

Dean thought for a moment, then asked. "Do you think she would have said yes?"

"I _know_ she would have said yes. Now I have to get to work. Help yourself to the pantry and the fridge. Other than that, just...take it easy today. Make yourself at home."

Jon rose from the bed and walked to the bedroom door.

"Would you mind if I used the gym in your basement today?"

"Have at it."

After finishing 2 sets of 25 reps of bench presses, he gloved up, removed his shirt and took to the punching bag which hung from a hook on the ceiling. Dean started at a steady pace, then began to pick it up. However, a couple of minutes into the punching, visions of Stacy entered into his mind.

She was smiling, talking, laughing. She looked so happy. Pictures of the two of them eatting out, going to a movie, Jon giving Stacy a light headlock at a backyard barbecue. Wonderful memories. Pleasant memories. Then those flashbacks turned dark and somber. He could just see the fear in her eyes as he imagined the monster attacking her.

Dean's punches on the punching bag became more vicious, more fierce. He could imagine Stacy getting struck across the face. Dean's punches were now getting more quick and more violent. Dean became very angry with every punch he threw.

Then he iamgined of her being held down in the water in the tub by her throat, then being brought up out of the water coughing and sputtering, then dunked again, but not before he imagined the attacker forcefully kissing her. It killed Dean to see her struggle. The last thing he saw in his mind was the lipstick message on the bathroom mirror, the _piece de resistance,_ the grand finale of the criminal's masterpiece.

With a powerful scream, he pulled his right fist back, and socked the bag as hard as he could. With enough force, he knocked the bag off the hook and it landed on the floor with a thud. Dean panted heavily, sweat pouring down his muscular 6'4" 225 pound frame. He removed the gloves from his hands, then tossed them behind him. It was then that he began to feel sick to his stomach. He rushed over to a trash can in the corner of the basement gym. He knelt in front of the can and emptied his stomach for half a minute. The images which played in his head was enough to make his stomach churn.

He wrapped his arms around his stomach after the vomiting had ceased, then leaned backfirst against the wall. Just like last night, tears began to fall from his broken blue eyes. He brought his knees inward towards his chest, sobbing quietly. How anyone could do something so heinous, so horrible to an angel such as Stacy. Dean rested the back of his head against the wall, closing his eyes, going back in time at the day at the park just 2 short months ago. The day that Dean and Stacy said to each other for the first time, 'I love you'. It was also the day that they shared their first kiss.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you to all the readers of this story. Hope you are enjoying this tale so far. There is more to come. This is a flashback chapter. Enjoy.**

 **Chapter 8**

 _Dean and Stacy were walking in the park on a cold December day. They were laughing, talking, enjoying each other's company._

 _"Can you believe it, Dean?" Stacy asked her boyfriend clutching his arm. "Christmas is almost here."_

 _"Yeah. 2 short weeks."_

 _"So, what did you get me?"_

 _"HA! I can't tell you that."_

 _"Why not?"_

 _"Well...I just can't."_

 _"Not even a hint?"_

 _"Nope. Now here's a question for you."_

 _"What's that?"_

 _"What did you get me?"_

 _"Uh-uh. I wasn't born yesterday. If you can't tell me what you got me, you sure as heck ain't getting an answer out of me of what I got you."_

 _"Well, fine," Dean replied with a mock pout causing Stacy to laugh._

 _"You're cute when you do that fake pout."_

 _"But you're still not gonna tell me, are you?"_

 _"Not a chance. Hey how's Jon doing? I haven't seen him for a while."_

 _"He's doing good. He just started his new job at the YMCA a few weeks ago."_

 _"Oh. Does he like it?"_

 _"He says he does. Of course he always loved being around barbells. Even in school. He loved to train and lift the weights."_

 _"And so do you apparently," Stacy said feeling his left bicep. "What is that you have in there? A dinosaur egg?"_

 _Dean guffawed out loud. "I have to keep up this physique for my girl."_

 _"Who's your girl?"_

 _Dean cocked an eyebrow at Stacy. "Ha, ha. Very funny. You know who."_

 _All around them as they walked through the park, families were having snowball fights, building snowmen, making snow angels. Dean and Stacy stood still looking at all the happy faces and listening to the laughter cascade through the snowy area._

 _"Oh...I want a kid."_

 _"Maybe someday." Dean answered._

 _At that moment, a few kids ran in front of them. One blond-headed boy, no more than 8 or 9, slipped and fell on his butt at Dean and Stacy's feet._

 _"Whoops." said the kid._

 _Dean bent down to check on the boy. "Whoa. You alright, buddy?"_

 _"Yeah I'm fine." the boy said as Dean assisted him carefully to his feet._

 _"You sure? That was quite a slip."_

 _"I'm alright. Thank you, sir."_

 _"You're welcome, kiddo."_

 _The child ran off after his brother and sister. Stacy shook her head, smiling at the man beside her._

 _"What?" Dean asked curiously._

 _"You are so good with kids. You would make a great dad."_

 _"You think so?"_

 _"Absolutely." Stacy looked over Dean's left shoulder and pointed. "Look. Over there."_

 _Dean looked over his shoulder, then turned back to Stacy. "What am I looking for?"_

 _"No, keep looking. I thought I saw something. A deer, I think."_

 _Dean turned his back to Stacy to look in the direction she pointed. He turned back around after a moment._

 _"I don't see anything..." he started to say only to have been struck on the chest with a snowball. "Stacy."_

 _"Oops. My mistake." she answered smirking and chuckling._

 _Lips puckered in defeat, he looked down at his chest, brushing the light powder of snow off his black button-down coat. He looked up meeting her eyes._

 _"Sneaky. Very...sneaky."_

 _Another chuckle escaped Stacy's lips. Dean bent down grabbing a handful of snow, molding it into a ball. He straightened up, and lightly tossed the snowball at her. It crumbled onto her pant leg._

 _"How about that, missy?" Dean asked with a lunatic smile._

 _Stacy bent down and grabbed a handful of snow and without forming it into a ball, tossed it into Dean's face playfully._

 _"Take that, Ambrose."_

 _Dean reached up and wiped the snow from his face as he shuddered. "Brr. Oh, you've done it now, Hopkins."_

 _Dean began chasing Stacy through the park, both of them laughing as they ran. Dean managed to catch up to her. When he did, he grabbed her around the waist, lifting her off her feet twirling her around. They landed in the snow after Dean accidently lost his balance. They both laughed out loud as they hit the ground. Stacy rolled Dean onto his back as the laughing continued. She grabbed more snow up into her right hand and stuffed it into Dean's mouth._

 _"Eat it, Dean. Eat it."_

 _Dean grabbed Stacy and rolled her onto her back, spitting out the snow. He took up a small amount of snow in his hand. He held it up in an attempt to hit her with it._

 _"Don't you do it, you ruffian you."_

 _"You started it, young lady."_

 _Dean tossed the snow behind his back before plopping down back-first beside her in the blanket of snow. He just layed their catching his breath, then closed his eyes. Stacy adjusted herself to where she was sitting up, moving closer to Dean closing the gap between them. She looked at his gentle handsome face. He looked so peaceful and calm with his eyes closed. She pulled her loose strands of hair to the left side of her head. She leaned down and briefly, softly kissed him on the lips._

 _Dean rapidly opened his eyes after the quick show of affection. He blinked looking up at her._

 _"I love you, Dean." Stacy whispered._

 _"You do?" Dean whispered in reply._

 _"Yes. I do."_

 _"I love you too, Stacy." he said smiling tenderly._

 _"You do?"_

 _"Yes. I do."_

 _Stacy leaned down again to kiss Dean, but with more passion, more feeling. Dean pulled Stacy closer to deepen the kiss._

Dean was brought back to reality when he felt his wrists being restrained in front of him and a hand clamped over his mouth. A muffled gasp came from him as his eyes opened wide with shock.

"Hey, hey, hey. Easy. It's just me. Calm down. Relax."

Dean was panting behind the hand of Detective Calaway. Dean released a relaxed sigh through his nose. Detective Calaway removed his hand from Dean's mouth.

"Sorry I scared you."

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to check on you. I knocked, no answer. Tried the knob. Came in, said your name. No answer. This is where I found you."

"DId you think I was..." Detective Calaway nodded. Dean's eyes fell to the floor. "Was that why you have your gun out?"

Detective Calaway reached for the glock by his leg, and put it back in the holster. "Habit when searching through a quiet house."

Dean belched, then moaned deeply holding his stomach. "I threw up."

Detective Calaway's eyes caught the trash can to the side, not daring to look inside.

"Come on, Dean. Let's get you upstairs."

Detective Calaway aided Dean to his feet, and helped him up the basement steps, not before noticing the punching bag on the floor.


	9. Chapter 9

**I borrowed a few of lines from a promo Dean Ambrose cut as Jon Moxley about a guy by the name of Jimmy Jacobs. I thought it would have fit perfect for how Dean was feeling in this chapter.**

 **Chapter 9**

After Dean had taken a nice warm shower, he went to join Detective Calaway in the living room, now donning a plain black polo shirt and blue jeans. Detective Calaway was looking at a picture on the walls of the twins sitting in front of a man and a woman wearing dress clothing. Dean cleared his throat interrupting the detective's thoughts, causing him to turn around.

"Sorry. Got distracted by this picture here." Detective Calaway stated pointing at the 15x18 picture in a brown frame.

"That would be me, Jon, mom and dad. We were 14 when that picture was taken." Dean answered as he walked over to stand by the detective.

"Hmm. Nice looking family."

"It was." Dean said crossing his arms over his chest.

Detective Calaway became confused by the comment. "Was, Dean? Something happen?"

"Yeah. Jon and myself were spending the night at our friends house one night. It was mom and dad's anniversary. They were killed by a drunk driver that night. Our grandparents took us in after that and raised us."

"Wow. That's...tough. I'm very sorry to hear that." Dean nodded. "But, on a lighter note, I'm amazed at how much you two looked alike in this photograph."

"You would be surprised how many times my brother and I got mixed up. Some would call me Jon and call him Dean."

"How could people tell you apart?"

"There was only one way. The eye color." Dean pointed to his twin. "The one sititng in front of dad is Jon. His eyes are brown. He got that from our mother. As for me, I inherited the blue eyes from our father."

"Yep. I see it now." Detective Calaway decided to change the subject. "You never mentioned last night on how you met Stacy in the first place."

"I didn't, did I?"

"No."

"Wel, I'll tell you on the way to the kitchen. I think the coffee is ready. Want some?"

"Sure."

The two men made their way to the kitchen.

"I was driving home one rainy night from a movie with some friends of mine. I stopped at a stop light, looked over in the parking lot of a diner and I saw this woman was having trouble. I pulled into the parking lot and I asked her what was going on. Have a seat, detective."

"Thank you."

Dean walked over to the cabinet to retrieve 2 coffee mugs and sat them on the counter. He reached for the coffee pot and poured the hot brew into each mug as he talked.

"I asked what was wrong and she said she had a flat tire. Me, being the man that I am, had to help her cause I couldn't stand seeing someone stranded in the pouring rain. Cream? Sweetner?"

"No, neither. Thank you."

Dean grabbed the mugs and carried them to the table. "Not a fan of that stuff?"

"No, it's just I need something strong this morning. I had a long night." _With the missus hehehe._ "Anyway, continue on with your story."

Dean sat down at the table letting the mug warm his hands. "I couldn't just leave her there so I decided to help fix the tire for her. It took less than 10 minutes. When I finished, she asked me how much she owed me. I said nothing. She tried to pay me something and I said I don't want your money. So she asked me if she could by me a cup of coffee instead for the good deed I had done. I accepted. We walked back into the diner, sat and talked, drank coffee, had some apple pie. We just hit it off. We exchanged numbers and so the story went."

"You're a good guy, Dean Ambrose." Detective Calaway commented after sipping the coffee.

"Thank you. Hey, where's your partner?"

"Around town."

"Oh. Did you find out anything about last night?"

"There was no forced entry. The people are dusting for prints. I just came from the morgue. They're checking Stacy's body for anything else other than the obvious bruising. If we find out anything, we'll let you know."

Dean sighed as he sipped at the hot brew.

"What's on your mind?"

"I can't eat. I can't sleep. I can't think a single normal thought. When I wake up in the morning, and I look in the mirror, I see Stacy Hopkins' face. In my bowl of cornflakes, I see Stacy Hopkins' face. When I open the mail box, I see Stacy Hopkins' face. Everytime I close my eyes, I see Stacy Hopkins' face just begging, _begging_ , for help. And I couldn't do anything about it.

"Dean...there was nothing you could have done. You tried though. You performed CPR. And I'm sorry it didn't work out."

"It should have been me." Dean muttered before taking another sip of coffee.

Detective Calaway's eyebrows lowered. "What did you just say?"

"Nothing."

"I heard what you said, Dean. Don't you ever say anything like that again. Do you understand me?"

"It's just how I feel right now." he said rising from his seat. He began to pace the floor, stopping at the counter resting his hands on the counter top.

Detective Calaway rose from the table and stood behind Dean. He touched Dean's left shoulder. He turned Dean so he was looking at him. Dean's eyes were cast to the floor.

"Look at me, Dean." He did. "We are going to do everything we can to find the scumbag who took Stacy from you. And we won't stop until we do."

"You will?"

"Count on it."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Detective Jacobs walked into the YMCA in search for Jon Ambrose. He found a swim teacher asking he where Jon could be. She led him to the training room of the facility. Once there, Detective Jacobs stood at the doorway of the gym. The lady walked over to where Jon was assisting a young man in some barbell curls. She whispered into his ear, then turned his gaze to the detective.

"Thanks. You're doing good, man. 5 more of those and you'll be done. Jack, could you come over and take over for me, please?"

Jon walked over to where Detective Jacobs stood.

"Detective Jacobs." Jon greeted with an extended hand.

Detective Jacobs accepted the handshake. "Hello, Jon."

"What brings you here today?"

"I just wanted to stop by and talk with you. Is there somewhere private we could talk?"

"Sure. My office is quiet. Would you like to talk there?"

"Sure."

The two of them began tracking toward Jon's office.

" My partner stopped by your place to check on Dean. How is he?"

"He's pretty heartbroken. He didn't get a whole lot of sleep last night."

"That's to be expected."

They made it to Jon's office on the North side of the building by the locker rooms. He opened the door inward allowing the detective to enter first. The office was medium sized with a reddish-brown cedar desk, black leather chairs in front of the desk. File cabinets, mini fridge. The red painted walls had a winners touch to them of diplomas, medals, and trophies of different sizes on the shelves. Detective Jacobs whistled in approval.

"You were that much into sports growing up, huh?" Detective Jacobs asked sitting in one of the leather chairs.

"Baseball, hammer throw, track." Jon sat down at his desk.

"How about Dean? Was he much into sports?"

"Oh yeah. All the time. We were quite the competitive duo, Dean and I. Our parents could not stand us trying so much to out each other in sporting activities. Mom and dad came to all of our games until we were 14. Our parents were killed by a drunk driver on their anniversary. We were at a friends house when it happened, then we were raised by our grandparents."

"I'm sorry to hear that. It must have been devastating to you both."

"It was. Severely."

"How's your relationship with Dean now?"

"We're very close. Always have been. But we've had our moments. For example. In high school. Over a girl. Her name was Nancy. She moved after she graduated. We dated for a few weeks. Then a rumor started that my brother was trying to come onto her. We were Juniors, she was a Senior. I confronted Dean one day and he told me it wasn't true. We were raising our voices, we shoved each other. I slapped him, he slapped me back. Then punches flew and our little fight got us both suspended for a week. Turns out she had played us both. She said she wanted to see what would make me tick. I told her one day that I was sometimes secretly envious of Dean. I guess that's what made her pull that little stunt."

"What made you secretly envious of him?"

"He got most of the awards. Top grades. Sometimes, I thought he was better than me. To say I wasn't inwardly jealous of Dean would be a lie. But..." Jon added a shrug. "Hey. What siblings aren't jealous of their other siblings, huh? But there was no doubt that I loved my brother. And when he told me he was going to propose to Stacy, I could not have been more happy."

"Last night, you said she was like a sister to you."

"And it was the truth. When he crumbled last night after telling me she was murdered, it made my heart shatter. The last time I saw him like that was when our parents died. To see your brother so distraught, you just want to help him anyway you can. But you feel so helpless sometimes."

"Being a brother to him is the best thing you can do for him. He appreciates you being there for him. You continue doing that and you'll be just fine."

Detective Jacobs rose from his chair and retrieved a card from his inner jacket pocket. He passed it to Jon. "If you think of anything, don't hesitate to call."

"Thank you, detective. I'll let you know immediately."

Detective Jacobs turned to walk out of his office. Jon picked up the card turning it over in his hands, reading it front to back. He then began to think. He began to think long and hard. Then he smirked.

He was thinking about how easy it was. Going over to visit her as a friend. He helped her pick out the dress. He offered to run her bath water adding the lavender bubble bath to the at her request. He remembered walking back into the room seeing her hold up a red haltertop dress up to her bathrobe covered body. Stacy asked Jon what he thought. He liked it. Then he remembered...he remembered...

He remembered the sound of the smack his open palm made against her left cheek sending her to the floor. He remembered seeing the fear and shock in her eyes when she looked up at him. Jon reached down and grabbed her by the throat, pulling her to her feet. Jon led Stacy to the bathroom and tossed her into the tub. When she tried to escape, he held her underneath the water by her throat. He pulled her up out of the water to deliver his kiss of death to her, smack dab on the lips. He held her under water again feeling her struggle until the struggling came to a complete stop. He wiped his wet hands on his pants as he gazed at the lifeless eyes of Stacy Marie Hopkins. Jon walked over to the mirror, found her lipstick, and wrote a message on it in big bold letters.

Jon chuckled sadistically at his scheme. He reached into the top drawer of his desk pulling out a lighter. He lit a corner of the card on fire. He watched the card float to his desk top.

"Oh, Dean. If I couldn't have her...neither could you."


	11. Chapter 11

**I apologize for this chapter being short. The next chapter is longer. Hope you like it. I got the idea of part of this chapter after seeing Dean and Chris Jericho playing air guitar in a segment they did on a WWE Tour overseas.**

 **Chapter 11**

Detective Calaway and Detective Jacobs were sitting at their desks at the station. Detecitve Jacobs was going over both his and his partner's notes while Detective Calaway was just finishing up his phone call with the medical examiner.

"Thanks, Trevor. We'll be in touch." Detective Calaway informed before hanging up the phone. He sighed rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

"What did Trevor say?"

"They are working on the prints from the bruising on the neck."

"Hmm. Anything else?"

"Nope. That's it."

"Well, the visit to her workplace at the diner was a bust."

"Why do you say that?"

"I went there asking about her after I left the YMCA. They all said the same thing. She was nice and respectful to everyone. They said that she had worked there for almost 2 years. Everyone liked her. She was always friendly. Always smiling. Always upbeat. I asked about if anyone would come around and harass her. Nope. Never."

Detective Calaway shook his head, looking down at his lap.

"What's wrong?"

Detective Calaway turned his eyes towards his partner. "Here's what I don't understand. Here was a young woman, whole life still ahead of her. No enemies we are aware of. She had loving parents whom supported her."

"When did you visit her parents?"

"After I left from visiting Dean earlier today."

"I hate that part of any investigation."

"Yeah. Me too. Telling the parents about the death of their child is never easy."

"I concur."

"Anyway, she also had Dean Ambrose in her life. Great guy by the way."

"Very great guy. Feel sorry for him."

"Me too."

Detective Jacobs noticed the look on his face. The look of not understanding why things happen the way they do.

"Hey. Mark. We'll catch him."

"Believe me. I want to."

"And so do I."

Dean was sitting in the guest room of Jon's one-story home on the guest bed. If there was one thing people rarely knew about Dean was that music was his escape form the outside world. Most nights, he would sit in his room, strum his acoustic guitar, playing along with the radio. That's how he learned to play. Eventually, he got good enough to where he could play anything. Blues, classic country, rock. Today was a 80's rock kind of day, the hair band days. Today was a Bon Jovi 'Wanted Dead Or Alive' kind of day.

He started to strum the strings of his guitar and began to sing the opening verse of the song and the chorus of the famous 80's tune. As he finished the chorus, he heard a soft knocking on the doorjam. He looked up to see Jon standing their.

"You still got it, Dean."

"I didn't know you were home."

"Just got in a few moments ago. I brought supper. Didn't feel like cooking anything. Hope Chinese food was alright."

"Sure. I'm starving."

"Oh yeah. I um...took tomorrow off as a personal day. So tomorrow, I thought we could hang out together. How does that sound to you?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. Just you and me. Come on, Dean. What do you say? And if you think about it, when was the last time we hung out together just doing brotherly things? I mean...after what's happened, maybe you could use this."

"Well..." Dean responded with a sideways glance.

"Hmm?"

Dean thought for a few more moments in silence before casting his eyes towards Jon. A smirk formed on both their faces.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes."

Jon laughed clapping his hands together in excitement. "That's my brother. Now, come on. Let's eat before the food gets cold."

Dean sat his guitar on the bed before rising to his feet. He followed Jon to the kitchen.

"You didn't bring any shrimp or anything like that, did you?"

"Don't worry, Deany Boy. I remembered. I also remember how sick you were after eating that bite of sushi."

Dean rubbed his stomach with a low groan. "Unless you want me to make a mess on your carpet, please don't bring it up again."

"Yeah. You're right. I wouldn't want you puking all over the floor. That would be nasty. Plus, I just had the carpet cleaned last week."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Detective Calaway had just finished his shower after his 9:00 p.m. work out at the precinct gym when Detective Jacobs raced up to him in the locker room.

"Mark! Thank God I foud you."

"Glen. What's going on?"

"Give me a minute. I just literally came running from the office." he said panting.

"Come here. Sit down on the bench. Breathe slowly."

Detective Jacobs did as requested, waving the manila folder in front of his face. When Detective Calaway thought it was okay, he asked his partner again.

"Now, Glen. Tell me what the heck has you so worked up?"

"I have the results. The results of who killed Stacy Marie Hopkins. Right here. In this folder."

Detective Jacobs passed the folder off to his friend. He opened in to glance at the paper and at the name which popped out at him. His eyesbrows furrowed at the sight of the name.

"Jon Moxley Ambrose." He looked at Detective Jacobs. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. His fingerprints match the ones on Stacy's neck as well as the tube of lipstick he used to write that message on the mirror."

Dean Ambrose's brother. Detective Calaway shook his head. His emerald eyes turned up to the clock. 9:45

"Mark?"

"Come on. We have to warn Dean. Now."

Dean and Jon were sitting in the front room watching tv. The Cincinnatti Reds were pummeling the Texas Rangers 4-0 in the top of the 6th. Dean's cellphone ringing interrupted them watching their favorite team. Dean turned his eyes towards his room rising from his seat on the couch.

"Sorry, Jon. Forgot I had it charging."

"Who could be calling you at..." Jon checked his watch. "9:58 at night?"

"Not sure," Dean answered walking towards his room. "Excuse me."

"Sure."

Dean entered his room, removed the phone from the charger, then pressed the 'talk' button.

"Dean Ambrose speaking."

" _Dean. It's Detective Calaway."_

"Detective Calaway. Good evening.

 _"Oh, I wish it was a good evening. Trust me."_

"Detective...you sound like something is bothering you."

 _"I need to talk to you. It's quite urgent. I want to talk to you privately. Where are you?"_

Dean lowered his voice. "I'm in the guest bedroom back at Jon's apartment."

 _"Close your bedroom door if it's open."_ Dean walked over and closed his door completely.

"Okay. Now you have my full attention. What is going on?"

 _"We got a match on the fingerprints."_

"You did? When?"

 _"Just moments ago."_

Dean closed his eyes, breathing in and out of his mouth. "Who is it?"

 _"You're not gonna like this."_

"Detective Calaway. Tell me. Who killed Stacy?"

Detective Calaway knew there was no hiding the truth. He just had to come out and say it knowning how much this would hurt. _"It was Jon."_

Dean had a confused expression on his face. He must have misunderstood. "Wha...what?"

 _"It was Jon ."_ Detective Calaway repeated with regret.

Dean panted slowly, softly, letting the news sink in. Yet he thought he was mistaking.

"Jon? My brother? No no no no no no no. It can't be."

 _"Dean, I'm so sorry. The results don't lie. Your brother Jon killed Stacy last night."_

Those word stabbed him in the heart like a knife. He had been betrayed. His brother. Jon Moxley Ambrose, the only family he had left, had killed the love of his life. He wasn't mistaking. But why? Why?

 _"Dean? Are you still with me?"_

"Yeah. I'm here."

 _"Where is he? Where is Jon?"_

Before Dean could answer, the door was kicked open with force. The door hit the wall with a sickening slam. Dean screamed as he turned around to face the doorway. Jon stood there in the door way, a roll of duct tape in his left hand, a revolver in his right. He aimed the weapon at Dean. Dean's eyes were wide and full of fear, his panting becoming shaky. Dean had lowered the phone away from his ear not hearing Detective Calaway calling his name.

"Who are you talking to?" Jon asked as he stalked into the room.

Dean walked backwards until his back connected with the wall. Jon gently sat the duct tape on the foot of the bed as he still aimed the pistol at Dean's heart.

"I said who...are...you...talking...to?"

Jon reached forward and took the phone from Dean's hand. He looked at the name on the cellphone and chuckled. "I guess you know the truth now, huh, brother?"

Jon flipped the revolver in his hand where he was holding it by the barrel, making sure his forefinger was not touching the trigger. He pulled his arm back, then drove the gun right into Dean's stomach sending him to his knees at the left side of his bed, moaning and groaning loudly.

"Do you honestly think he Detective Calaway can help you? Do you think anybody can help you now?"

Jon buried the toe of his right foot into Dean's midsection. His arms circled around his gut as he coughed, trying to catch his breath. Jon held the phone up to his ear.

"Hello, detective. So good to hear from you this fine February evening. How are things on the right side of the law?"

 _"Cut the crap, Jon. Where is Dean?"_

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir." Jon mocked. "He's unavailable right now. He's not feeling well. He's having stomach issues. Heh heh. Got to go. Toodles."

Jon ended the call, then smashed the cell phone against the wall causing it to shatter. Jon put the gun on the bed and retrieved the duct tape. Jon reached down and turned Dean flat onto his stomach. He pulled Dean's arms behind his back restraining them with the tape. As soon as he was satisfied that there was no way Dean could break free, he ripped one more piece of tape from the roll. He walked in front of Dean and grabbed a handful of hair.

"GET ON YOUR KNEES!" he demanded.

Dean slowly made it to his knees. Jon slapped the tape over Dean's mouth. He reached for the gun on the bed and held the cold steel of the muzzle against his cheek, all the while still having a hold of Dean by the hair.

"Don't you worry, Dean. You'll be reunited with Stacy soon. And I mean very...very...soon."

Detective Calaway reached for the semi-automatic on his desk, checked for bullets, then placed it in his side gun holster.

"Jon's got Dean."

"What?!" Detective Jacobs exclaimed. "Did he shoot him?"

"No. No gun shots fired." Detective Calaway gathered up his bullet proof vest and started towards the door of the office. "I'm going. If you want to go with me, that's fine."

Detective Calaway started making his way out of the office. He had that look on his face that said he meant business, or 'I'm gonna hurt somebody'. Detective Jacobs had seen that look many times. He knew that look well.

"Oooooh boy."


	13. Chapter 13

**Things are about to get a little rough for Dean in this next chapter. I borrowed a few lines from some promos Jonathan Good cut as Jon Moxley. One from IPW and the one from HWA Unleashed (the last line of the promo). There was another promo I borrowed a line from but I can't remember which promo it was.**

 **Chapter 13**

Jon was pulling Dean along by his restrained arms until he reached the door which led out to the pool. Jon opened the door with one hand while trying to hold up Dean with the other.

"Whew! Boy, Dean. You've been working out."

Once out on the porch, Jon pushed Dean on his left side. Dean groaned behind the strip of tape over his mouth. Jon walked over and knelt beside Dean. He rolled him onto his back.

"You still with me, Dean? Earth to Dean. Earth to Dean!"

Jon reached forward and slapped Dean hard across the left cheek. "I need you awake and aware for this."

Jon stood up and reached for Dean's arms again, pulling him backwards off the porch. Dean kicked, and wiggled, trying so hard to break free of his brother's iron grasp. Once on the ground, he slammed Dean back-first to the cement walk.

"Oh, Deany Boy. You know this night won't end well for you." Jon knelt in front of Dean again. He grabbed Dean roughly by the face, forcing him to turn his eyes up towards him. "Dean Ambrose," he said sinisterly. "You might not survive the night. And you'll have me to thank for that."

Jon pulled Dean up to a sitting position by the collar of the shirt and delivered a vicious right hand to Dean's face. He repeated the motion two more times with a left hook, then another right. He pulled Dean to an upright position, still sitting on the cement. Jon reached forward and yanked the tape away from Dean's mouth.

"LOOK! Into the eyes of the man whom killed Stacy."

Dean panted looking up into the eyes of the killer. He dared not to think of Jon as his brother anymore as much as it pained him. "Why have you done this?"

Jon chuckled sadistically. "You wanna know why? I'll tell you why. I'm just a sick guy. I'm a really, really dirty guy. And just a little information for you. Everytime you're a 9, I'm a 10. You're a King, I'm an Ace. I'm always just a little bit better than you."

Jon pulled the gun front his waistband and placed the muzzle under Dean's chin.

"You make one peep, you ever so much as try to scream out, I'll blow your brains out."

"What difference does it make? You said yourself I won't survive the night anyway."

Jon smiled a wide maniacal grin. "I did say that didn't I? Let me ask you something? Have you ever wanted something so bad that you could just taste it? That's how I felt about Stacy and every time I saw you two together. Hugging on each other, laughing at each other, kissing on each other. Made me sick. So, when you told me you were going to propose to her...I knew what I had to do. Are you familiar with the story of the Betrayal of Jesus?"

Dean's eyesbrows furrowed.

"No? You need to read the Bible more. Great stuff. Anyway, Judas Iscariot was one of Jesus' disciples. He betrayed him one night in the Garden of Gethsemane. How? By one little kiss. 'The Kiss of Death' they call it. That's exactly what I did. That was the last thing that happened to Stacy that night before I dunked her in that bath tub. And let me tell you...no wonder you loved her so much. Her lips were as smooth as silk and as sweet as honey. I gave her the kiss of death last night. And now..."

Jon pulled Dean close and kissed him smack-dab on the mouth before slamming him to the ground again. Dean curled onto his left side as Jon rose to his feet. Jon spit to the right before eyeing the gun in his hand.

"Shooting you would be too easy. I have a better idea for you."

Jon chucked the gun to a near-by bush, then proceeded to walk around the pool pulling the blue tarp away, revealing a pool full of water. He worked as he spoke.

"Oh, Dean. I'm enjoying this...just as much as I enjoyed the things I did to Stacy. The fear in her eyes when she looked up at me after I struck her across the face. My hands around her smooth, soft neck as I held her underwater in her bathtub. The kiss. Remember the letter on the mirror? I wrote that after I sent her to her watery grave. And that's exactly where you'll wind up too."

Jon walked over to where Dean lay as he removed the belt from his own jeans. He reached down lifting Dean's feet and tied the belt around his ankles.

"You know how I did it. And you know why I did it." Jon silently gasped. "I almost forgot. I told her I loved her one day. I told her that I wanted to be with her. But there was one little problem. She was with you. She loved _you._ She didn't love me."

Jon grabbed Dean by the ankles and pulled him along to the edge of the pool.

"So...to conclude this little tale of heartache and hate, I took her life all out of envy and jealousy, dear brother. Envy...and jealousy."

"I'll take that as a confession." came a voice from in front of Jon. He looked up to see Detective Jacobs aiming his gun directly at him. "Let him go!"

Jon brought Dean to his feet and stood behind him wrapping an arm around Dean's neck.

"You would take an innocent life to get to me?"

"You would take an innocent life for your sick pleasure?"

Jon looked at the deep end of the pool, pulling Dean backwards with him. "I would put that gun down if I were you. Unless you want another dead body on your hands."

"You're already going to jail for one murder, Jon. It's over."

"I could easily take another life."

Jon kicked the back of Dean's legs causing his knees to buckle. He positioned Dean flat onto his stomach, his head over the edge of the pool. Jon held Dean by the hair holding him to where his face was meer inches from the water.

"NO!" Dean cried out.

"NO! DON'T!" Detective Jacobs said.

"Then this is your last chance, detective. Put the gun down or he gets it. I MEAN IT!"

Jon lowered Dean's face closer to where the tip of his nose touched the water. He closed his eyes waiting for his whole head to be dunked.

"OKAY! Okay." Detective said lowering the gun to the ground. "I put it down." He rose back up to his feet. "You don't have to do this."

"Slide the gun over here to me."

Detective Jacobs used his foot to push the gun over to Jon. Jon grabbed the gun and pulled Dean away from the edge of the pool. "You're safe...for now."

Jon had Dean kneeling on his knees in front of him, and covered Dean's mouth with his hand. He aimed the gun at the detective.

"On your knees. Now!" Detective Jacobs did as was demanded. "Good night." Jon fired a couple of rounds into Detective Jacobs chest.

Dean gasped behind Jon's hand as the cop plopped down onto the ground.

"Uh-oh. Cop down. Too bad. So sad. Two murders in one night. First, the cop. Now, the brother. Say hello to Stacy for me."

Before Jon had a chance to push Dean into the pool, Jon heard the cock of a gun behind him, then felt the coldness of the weapon pressed against his neck.

"Get up, Jon. On your feet."

"Detective Calaway. What a nice surprise. How kind of you to join our little party."

"I said get up. It's over."

Jon rose to his feet facing the detective. "Is it really over? Seriously? You know you want to kill me, but you won't. You will wish you had though. I killed your partner. I could kill his family too. But what if...I don't stop there? Hmm?"

Detective Calaway continued to aim the gun at Jon's heart.

"What about your family? What about _your_ kid? You have a little boy at home?" Nothing. "No. Wait. Oooohhhhh...you have a daughter don't you? The little brat."

Detective Calaway's eyes turned to fire.

"Then maybe when I finish with her, I can gradually move on...to that piece of filthy garbage whom you call your wife."

Detective Calaway balled up his fist and socked Jon right in the face as hard as he could, sending him onto his right side.

"Next time, keep your mouth shut so I won't have to knock you out."

Detective Calaway aided Dean away from the edge of the pool and sat him on a piece of pool furniture. He removed the belt from Dean's ankles, then turned his attention to his wrists behind his back. He pulled a knife from his boot, removed the covering on the blade, then worked on cutting the tape. It took a little work, but he finally was able to free Dean's wrists. He tossed the tape aside as Dean rubbed at his red chaffed wrists. Detective Calaway inspected Dean's face. Cut on his left cheek, busted lip.

"You alright?"

"Yes," Dean panted. "Thank you."

Detective Calaway called over to his right. "Glen? You alright?"

"Ugh...I forgot how much that hurts." Detective Jacobs stated standing to an upright position. "Bulletproof vests are a cops best friend." he said tapping at the vest under his shirt.

"Amen to that, Glen. Amen to that."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Jon slowly began to stir on the ground. He turned his head to the left to see Detective Calaway helping Dean rise to his feet from the chair he had occupied. Jon reached into the front of his jeans pulling out a smaller gun and aimed it at Detective Calaway's back as he stood to his feet. Dean saw it before Detective Calaway did.

"GUN!" Detective Jacobs hollered out.

Dean stepped in front of Detective Jacobs as Jon fired and shot a single bullet into Dean's chest sending him back into Detective Calaway.

"NO!" Detective Calaway screamed as he caught Dean in his arms.

Jon went for another shot, but was shot by a replacement gun Detective Jacobs kept hidden at his right ankle for situations like this. Jon's body fell backwards into the deep end of the pool. Detective Jacobs held the gun outward from him walking towards the pool. A circle of blood surrounded Jon's lifeless body. Detective Jacobs shook his head at the man in the pool before walking over to where Dean lay.

Detective Calaway held Dean in his arms. He placed his left hand over the bullet wound as Dean groaned and wheezed a cough and gasped. He was struggling with his life.

"Dean. Stay with me. STAY WITH ME! Glen! Call 911!"

"I'm on it." Detective Jacobs stated digging his cellphone out of his front pants pocket.

Detective Calaway continued to hold Dean as he was fighting to survive, to stay alive.

"That bullet was meant for me, Dean."

"I...meant to do it..." Dean groaned as a streak of blood flowed from his mouth.

"Hold on. Just hold on. Glen is calling for some help right now. Just hold on a little longer, okay?"

"I...don't...know...how much longer I can..."

Detective Calaway stopped Dean mid-sentence. "Don't talk like that. You understand me? You're gonna be alright."

"Don't lie to yourself, Mark." Dean whispered.

"Hurry up!" Detective Jacobs told the EMT over the phone before hanging up. He knelt down in front of Dean. "Help is on the way, Dean. They'll be here soon."

Dean's groaning became softer. His breathing weaker and more faint. He started to close his eyes.

"No. No no no no no! DEAN!"

"It's okay. It's...okay. I get to see Stacy again. I love you, Stacy. I'm coming home, baby. I'm coming..."

With his final breath of air, he closed his eyes, his head tilted to the left...and he was gone. Detective Calaway looked up at Detective Jacobs and shook his head. Dean Ambrose saved the life of Detective Calaway and had peacefully died in his arms.

It had been close to a month after that case was over. Detective Calaway, now known as Mark Calaway after retiring from the force, was walking through the halls of the Cincinnati Police Department one last time.

"So. Mark Calaway retiring from the force. Wow."

"Yep. It's over, Glen. I just think it's time. I want to be home with my family."

"Can't argue with that. It was nice working with you."

"You too."

They shook hands before Mark turned to walk out the door.

Mark made a stop at the cemetery to visit Dean's grave. He stood there looking down at the mound of dirt. He read the name and the numbers on the tombstone.

Dean Matthew Ambrose. December 7, 1985-February 15, 2015.

Mark stood there, sighing heavily. "Oh, Dean. I never will understand what possessed you to put your life on the line for me. You didn't have to do that." He looked up at the sky. "Take care of him, Lord. He was a good man."

Mark placed his hat back atop his head, then turned back towards his truck. It was as he walked back to his vehicle he heard a voice behind him.

 _"Greater love hath no man than this; than to lay down one's life for his friends. John 15:13"_

That voice. He knew that voice. He recognized that raspiness. But...it couldn't have been. He was dead.

He died in my arms. Mark thought to himself. He just couldn't stop himself from turning around. The sight before him made him gasp out loud.

 _"Hi, Mark. And...don't faint on me, okay? I can't pick you up."_

Mark shook his head rapidly to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He looked again. Yep. He wasn't dreaming. Dean Ambrose, or the soul of Dean Ambrose, stood in front of him all dressed in white. He looked very happy and at peace.

"D...Dean?"

Dean smiled a wide grin. _"I would say 'In the flesh' but, in our current location, it would be a terrible joke. But, yep. It's me."_ Mark just simply stood and stared. _"Well...say something. You're the only one that can see me. It's just you and me here."_

Mark walked up to Dean, not removing his eyes from the figure standing in front of him.

 _"Hmm. Still don't believe me. How about this?"_ Dean leaned forward and blew air in his face. _"Feel that?"_

Mark blinked quickly before speaking. "Yeah. I did."

 _"Told ya."_ Dean said, his mouth turning up into a smile. _"How have you been, Mark?"_

"Fine. I could ask you the same thing."

Dean laughed in his throat. _"I'm doing okay. Everything is quite...Heavenly."_

A smile crossed Mark's face, which led to him laughing out loud, Dean joined in with a chuckle of his own. _"Thought you'ld laugh at that."_

Mark's facial features became serious after a bright moment. "I have to ask you something."

 _"Hit me with it."_

"Why did you take that bullet for me?"

 _"You have a family to provide for, I don't. To sum it all up, a wife needs her husband. A child needs their father. And if you say that I didn't have to do that, well...just be lucky I can't slap you."_ Mark chuckled deeply. _"But the real reason why I'm here."_

"Why _are_ you here?"

" _To thank you. All I wanted was to find out who did what they did to Stacy. And you did just that. And speaking of Stacy..."_

Dean turned to look over his right shoulder. Mark followed Dean's gaze to see a young woman, her hair flowing freely wearing a long white gown, stepping out from behind a tree.

"Wow."

 _"That's my Stacy."_ Dean commented before turning his eyes back towards Mark. _"I was hoping we could have lived happily ever after. This isn't how I imagined it, but...it ain't bad. Now we can be together forever."_

"Yep."

 _"Well, I have to go, but I had just had to come down here and say 'hey'."_

"Glad to hear you're okay. You take care of yourself."

 _"You too, Mark."_ Mark turned to walk away. _"Oh, yeah. I met your dad up there."_

"You did?"

 _"Yep. Great guy. He's very proud of you, too."_

"He..." he swallowed the lump in his throat. "He said that?"

 _"Yeah. He did. Want me to tell him you said 'hello'?_

"Sure. And...tell him I love him and miss him."

" _Deal."_

Mark turned towards his truck as Dean turned to walk towards Stacy. Dean bent down and loving kissed her on the lips. Mark got in his truck to drive back home. He watched Dean and Stacy walk away hand-in-hand before they disappeared.

Mark got home and walked up to his front door, knocking 3 times. Michelle greeted him at the door.

"Mark. You live here. You don't have to knock."

Mark removed his hat as he stepped into the door. He dropped his hat on the floor, pulled his wife close, and kissed her with lots of love and emotion. Michelle glady returned the kiss. They kissed a few seconds more before breaking for air.

"Mark. What was that for?"

"I realized that life is too short. I intend to make the most of every second with you."

"Daddy!"

Kaia came running up to her father arms open wide. Mark picked her up, spinning her in the air.

"Hey, kiddo. Did you miss me?"

"Uh-huh."

Kaia kissed her father on the nose and he kissed her on the cheek. She giggled as his facial hair tickled her face.

"Hey, I have an idea, Michelle. What do you say to a picnic at the park tomorrow?"

"Can we, mommy? Please?"

"Yeah. Pwease, mommy?"

Mark and Kaia hit Michelle with their sad pouty puppy faces. Michelle couldn't help but laugh.

"I don't see why not. Come on, you two supper's ready."

"I'm starving. You hungry, Kaia."

"Yeah. Let's eat."

The 3 of them stepped further into the house as Mark closed the door behind him leaving the world outside. If there was one thing Mark learned from his last big case it was this. Cherish every moment with the ones you love, because you never know. You just never know.

 **THE END**


End file.
